


upbeats

by bogfenwetland



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, but again so weird, but like in the strangest way, sometimes??? women attack each other???? to cope???????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24413092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bogfenwetland/pseuds/bogfenwetland
Summary: the first time that adora and catra decide to spar together after the war."i want to see you lose it."
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 208





	upbeats

**Author's Note:**

> guys this fic is literally like.... problematic. i don't know what happened. and it's not even like i did a good job addressing how fucked up it is in the story itself it's just like THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGG. like they have either the biggest lapse in judgement one night or they have gone entirely galaxy brained. and it's even stupider because this all started just bc i couldn't possibly imagine either of them using pet names except for MAYBE catra in a really condescending way like the one 'babe' i gave her in this. like HOW did that concept turn into this. jesus.

Adora never needed to dance to see the rhythm in life, thank god. Deft as she was in some respects, just as daft she was in others. With dancing deeply set into the latter category. It wasn’t grace she lacked, nor coordination, but more it was a certain type of confidence. Maybe the right word would be freedom. Letting go of the bind that is fear of negative attention, fear of embarrassment. And of being so close to others. Of sweaty palms, of being unable to meet eyes so near hers, of the rare timidity being visible in her disposition at point blank. Of vulnerability. 

Regardless of this scarcity of freedom, though, the point still remained that Adora could make do just fine. She could easily see the flow of events, stories, connections, without the slightly on the nose physical representation of a dance. But, if ever she felt that metaphor would be helpful, she had her own way. A fight. With her, what else would it be? 

The wood of the bo-staff was rough, a training weapon clearly churned out haphazardly in the height of the war. Adora didn’t mind. She found the texture revitalizing, a constant reminder to remain loose and never to grip too tightly unless she wanted a fistful of sharp, tiny splinters. The room was a little too warm, the upkeep on traditional training facilities admittedly falling by the wayside in light of recent peace. Again, not a problem for Adora. Heat forced careful consideration, a limiting factor to highlight the merits of deliberate action to keep cool. Sloppy guesswork with her motion would only lead to overheating. Even the bare wooden floors and dim light were positives, promises of a cracked skull or a broken rib if she failed to stay upright and on her feet. 

This was an easy rhythm to find. Woman versus environment, one of the classics. Not even really something Adora needed to consciously think about. Harder to spot was the flow between herself and her enemy. Adora knew she wasn’t the smartest, but even she could recognize that this difficulty was due to the fact that she was sparring alone, a very frequent reality after Prime. Why fight now, when things are so good? Why train now, when the threat has been defeated? Bow tapped out immediately in the earlier days of recovery, choosing instead to focus on his inventions or science or whatever the fuck he was always going on about. Adora could get Glimmer, sometimes, if she wasn’t too busy rebuilding civilization. Rare even in the middle of the day, essentially impossible in the dead of night. But she still liked training, still wanted it. Tonight, there was really only one option to try. One that she had been dreading for a while.

Adora sighed as she walked to her jacket, digging through her pockets for the phone Bow had made for her. She made a mental note to be more respectful of his work in her internal monologue. She let herself stare blankly at the screen for a few moments, the bright light of _12:39am_ searing into her eyes. A happy Melog looked up at her from her background, almost making her second guess her decision. Her thumb hesitated just barely before quickly pressing the call button. Adora squeezed her eyes shut as the ringback tone sounded once, then twice, then--

“Hey, what are you doing up?”

Adora smiled in spite of herself, her nerves still strong. “Catra, hi. I thought you might be asleep, actually.” 

“Nope, we’re just outside Bright Moon now. What’s up?” She sounded lively, happy. 

“Everything went well?” Adora knew she was stalling. But couldn’t she be polite and ease into it? 

“Really good, yeah. Melog seems to be having a lot of fun with this whole magic reintroduction thing.” There was a brief pause where Melog’s faint purring was audible. “Everybody was wondering where She-Ra was, though. Had to tell them she was off on another planet saving lives so they would drop it.” 

Adora glanced down at the inside of her palms, rough and cut up from her staff. She considered herself fortunate that there were no mirrors in this training room, certain she looked like shit. Guilt pulled up her chest as she remembered bailing last minute on this expedition. She forced out a laugh. “Good cover.”

“I tried. I’m just realizing I probably should’ve told you we’d be back tonight, my bad. We were on the fence about staying in town but the weather tomorrow is supposed to be shitty so I wanted to head home.” Melog made a loud sound in the background, like he disagreed. Adora laughed for real this time. “Seriously, though, what’s up? Why aren’t you in bed?” 

“Who says I’m not?” Adora defended, not really sure why. 

Catra scoffed. “Uh, me? Because I just got to our room and you’re not here?”

Adora felt her stomach drop. Shit. She definitely didn’t think they would be that close, if coming home at all. The coward part of her brain had been relying on that. She fumbled around in her mind for the right way to ask her question. “I’m, uh, I’m in one of the… training rooms. The one right off the dining hall.” Catra was quiet, so Adora continued. “I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been feeling weird all day, kind of on edge. You know how I get, I guess. It’s why I didn’t go out with you guys tonight. Sorry about that, I should’ve just told you.”

“All good,” Catra pacified. “Anything I can do to help?” 

Adora swallowed, shaking her head. Then she remembered she wasn’t on a video call. “No, I mean, no. It’s… okay. Are you tired? I’ll come up to bed.” Adora cursed herself mentally. _Just ask her, fucker!_

“Not really, actually. I got some sleep around five. Do you want me to… I can come to you?” Adora made a pained face just for herself, Catra’s hesitation throwing her off. She waited too long to respond. “Are you working on something specific? Training, I mean. Because, if you’re just, like, getting your energy out, we could…”

Adora grit her teeth and furrowed her eyebrows, steeling herself. Somebody just had to say it. “Do you want to spar with me?” Her words were quiet, delivered slowly, fake calm. Her heart was racing. 

Catra was silent for a moment. “I-- would that be okay? We haven’t…” 

“I know. Yeah. I think it would be fine. I think I miss it.” Her voice wavered, her ears were hot. Why was confessing love easier than this? Catra didn’t respond. The little tone that plays when someone hangs up rang in Adora’s ear. She felt her blood run cold. She fisted her hands in her hair, puffing out a breath. She knew better. She had known better for weeks. Nothing was different tonight, so why would suddenly giving up on that self control and asking her go any differently than how she had imagined it? And telling her _that_? Come on. Adora snatched up her jacket, deciding to go to their room and apologize in person. She turned towards the door and stopped in her tracks, a cautious Catra blocking the frame. 

Lamps in the hallway backlit Catra, darkening her face. Her eyes seemed wary, concerned. Maybe even nervous. She held her phone in one hand, tucking it quickly into the bag slung over her shoulder. She took a single step into the dark training room, her bright eyes looking towards the ground briefly before flickering up to meet Adora’s shocked face. 

“Is it fucked up if I say I miss it, too?” 

Adora blinked slowly. “How did you get down here so fast?” Her voice was just above a whisper. 

Catra laughed softly. “Walked. Do we have to talk about this?” She stepped forward again, about a foot away from Adora. Adora stepped back, counting the blessing that she could read Catra so easily. 

“Maybe. Should we? It has to be weird, right?” Adora was leaning down, reaching for the staff she had let fall to the ground earlier. She didn’t take her eyes off Catra, who was circling to the equipment wall and placing her bag in a corner.

“Sometimes,” Catra started, gingerly lifting a staff of her own from a hook, “I’ll think about your friends when I’m not sure if something is bad or not.” 

“Our friends,” Adora corrected. She held her weapon loosely in front of her, horizontal in two upright palms. Catra mirrored the position.

“Our friends. I’ll try to picture how they’d react, if they would think what I’m considering is crazy.”

“They would think this is fucking insane.” Adora brought her staff up to a vertical angle, gripping the lower end in her left hand and the upper in her right. 

“That’s what I thought, too. Are we going to stop ourselves, then?” Catra copied Adora’s stance again. 

Adora sucked in a deep breath, holding it for a moment. They hadn’t done this yet, after the war. They hadn’t done this since they were in the Horde. Well, they hadn’t done it quite so willingly. In the conflict, before Catra realized how stubborn she was being, they fought. It wasn’t like how they sparred, though. The rhythm was different when it could come down to life or death. Not that Adora really thought Catra could kill her, not that she thought she could kill Catra. But accidents happen. On a battlefield full of flaming bots and untamed and untrained princesses, an errant ice dagger or a focused laser could’ve easily taken one of them out. 

In those real fights, instead of the confident offensive duet that was training, things were more circular, more a waltz. The cadence of battle would spin them around each other in a manner almost protective, Adora keeping her back to the Horde so she could watch her princesses and Catra doing the same with her army. Yes, they were swinging swords and whips and claws at each other, but they were in total control of those movements. Each step was calculated, choreographed so as not to mortally wound either partner. 

After so much time fighting like that, could they go back? Back to the all out force, to the deliberate moves meant to bring someone to their knees in an instant, to the chaos of training with weapons that hold almost no fatal risk? That was part of the reason Adora hadn’t asked for this yet, that worried feeling in the pit of her stomach that warned her things could never be quite like that again, quite as free as they were in the Horde. Now that they had time under their belts commanding others, locking each other in fights meant only to distract or delay, would that frenzy they had when they were young come back? It was easy to pretend that that was the only reason Adora had been afraid to broach the subject. Because the other, admitting that, despite how much she loved Catra, she still missed when they would spend nights in the Fright Zone beating the shit out of each other, just had this kind of electric buzz of ' _don’t fucking tell anybody that you freak_ ’ to it. Adora laughed to herself, dry and almost nostalgic. 

“Do you want to hurt me?” she asked. The question came out suddenly, unprepared and with a tenderness she didn’t anticipate, leading Catra to respond with yet again unforeseen genuinity. 

“Never again, Adora. But… will this hurt you? Does it really hurt when you want it?” Catra was taking slow, wide steps around her side of the room, always facing Adora. Adora walked with her, an exact reflection. Her brief smile was the only response she gave to Catra’s thoughts, knowing already that they both could see she would be just fine. 

“It won’t hurt you?” she fired back. She hoped Catra knew what she meant. Neither of them were talking about physicality. Catra had been working so hard to curb her violent tendencies, her capricious and aggressive mannerisms. She was getting really good at it, Adora thought. When they were kids, very young kids, Catra had been kind. Seriously nice. She was sweet and a little timid, of course still with that slight air of mayhem around her because that was simply who she had always been. That changed as they got older, really changed in the war. Sincerity abandoned and ruthlessness shoved haphazardly in its place, like a toddler trying to force a square into a circular hole. Now, as Catra was getting back to her roots, trying to access what she buried so deep out of self preservation, would tapping back into antagonism and hostility for the purpose of a pointless spar hurt her progress? That’s what Adora was worried about, not some bruises or scrapes from getting hit too hard. 

Catra bowed her head slightly, her neutral face leaning more towards serious. “It might help, actually,” she said, hushed like she was ashamed. 

Adora couldn’t restrain the bewildered smile creeping up her lips. “Yeah?” 

Catra met her eyes once more, rolling hers when she saw Adora’s face. “Yeah, asshole. I’m going to be, like, real for a second, okay?” Catra lowered her staff slightly, but continued moving. “I feel rotten when I think about fighting you.” Adora lowered her weapon in accordance. “All those memories, everything from when we were on different sides, they suck. It’s like they’re covered in poison and when I think of them they make me feel sick. I think that doing this now, when things are good, might… kind of, I don’t know, replace some of those memories? Or at least clean them off?” 

Adora chuckled and shook her head. “Jesus, that’s a way better reason than mine. I just miss how we trained when we were younger. I can’t find a partner nearly as fun to play with as you. I didn’t ask sooner because I didn’t think you’d want to.” Adora was lying, kind of, and she could see Catra narrow her eyes slightly as she recognized that. “I mean, that, and another reason I can’t figure out.” That was the truth. She wasn’t going to pretend this desire didn’t confuse her.

Catra tossed her head back and laughed, grip tightening slightly on her staff. She raised it a little. “Well, I appreciate that you were so worried about me. It won’t be a problem, though. Are you ready yet?” 

Adora smiled and stepped forward, closing some of the distance between them. Her movements were hesitant, but she couldn’t help it. Choppy and detached, she brought her staff down on Catra, who countered it quickly and pushed it away. There was a perfect opening for Catra to retaliate, but she didn’t take it.

“Come on, Adora, what’s that? Fight like you mean it.” 

Adora sighed, swinging her staff around to Catra’s head. Catra spun on her heel and caught the rod with her hand, a satisfying sound emerging from the contact. Catra grinned.

“Better, babe. Get into it.” 

Adora grit her teeth, pulling back and quickly jabbing forward. Catra’s grunt as she dodged out of the way reminded her of why she wanted this. A challenging partner, somebody who could keep up with her. Those initial few strikes echoed how she felt when they first were forced to fight by Shadow Weaver. Just little kids. They were both hesitant, neither wanting to hurt the other. Shadow Weaver’s threats of punishment for lackluster performance egged them on, goading them until that first session ended with Catra’s split lip and Adora’s bloody knuckles. Now, Catra’s encouragement inspired Adora in a similar way. Less scared, though, but more thirsty for approval than ever. Adora took another wide swing towards Catra’s feet, attempting to sweep her legs out from under her, but Catra jumped quickly out of the way.

“Stay still!” Adora grumbled under her breath. Catra cackled as she flipped into the air, perching herself on Adora’s shoulders, both of their staves clattering to the ground. Knees buckling under the weight, she tried to reach behind her head to grab one of Catra’s ankles and throw her off. 

“Always been faster than you,” Catra breathed into Adora’s ear as she slipped off her back, somehow predicting the need to duck as Adora spun quickly and swung blindly toward her. 

“You’ll tire out eventually.” Adora swiftly brought her foot up, landing a hard kick into Catra’s rib cage. Catra hissed and scurried back, one hand clutching her chest as she crouched into a defensive position. It was hard for Adora to ignore the pang of pain she felt in her own heart seeing how she hurt her, but they were doing this for a reason. Catra wanted it just as much as she did. If Adora had any doubt about that, it was quickly erased when Catra sprinted forward with her head bent and checked Adora’s torso with her narrow shoulder. Adora stumbled slightly, about to tip back entirely on her heels before she felt Catra’s dexterous hand grab her wrist and yank her up. Catra twisted her arm around, holding it uncomfortably behind her back. Her lips brushed against Adora’s neck as she spoke. 

“I can still see you hesitating. Let go.”

With an angry shout, Adora wrestled out of Catra’s grasp and turned to face her, bringing her knee up to crash into Catra’s pelvis. Catra yelped at the contact but managed to deftly leap out of the way of the elbow careening towards her face, a smile spreading across her lips. Adora kept her face set, not wanting to lose focus. Even if Catra’s pretty grin and sharp teeth distracted her enough that she failed to see Catra find her staff and send it hurtling towards Adora’s chest. The impact was brutal, incredibly painful, and totally freeing. She felt the sweat dripping down her face and neck.

“Finally remembered how to land a hit, huh?” Adora spat out, coughing. Catra’s laugh took on a bitter quality, emphasized by the way she stalked backwards away from Adora. 

“Never forgot, princess. Want to keep going?” Catra stood with her palms open, arms slightly out from her side. Her face was relaxed, but the wildness of her hair and the flush on her cheeks betrayed her. Heat creeped up Adora’s neck at the old nickname, stoking the growing fire in her core. She always hated when Catra called her that, the disdain in her voice as she spoke the word. Adora grunted in response, leaning down to grab her staff. 

Catra looked Adora up and down once, clearly noting her tense form and ragged breathing. She shrugged before raising her own weapon and rushing forward. Adora dodged sloppily, catching Catra’s waist with an outreached forearm as she overstepped her mark just a little. Catra gasped as Adora pulled her close, looking into her mismatched eyes from just a few inches away. With a hard shove, Catra flew into the ground on her back about three feet away. She glared up at Adora from the floor before jumping up, leaping into the air and reaching the claws on her free hand down towards Adora’s face. As she swerved away from the attack, Adora felt herself grow cocky. 

“Thought you were always supposed to land on your feet?” 

“Fuck off,” Catra growled, jabbing her fist into Adora’s ribs. Adora remained composed and managed to evade the next strike with a precise twist of her torso. 

“Kinda busy, maybe later.” Adora knocked her staff into Catra’s, pushing down hard into her. Locked in place, she watched Catra’s knees bend under the pressure, a bead of sweat rolling down her neck. Catra smirked, a dirty move that alone was enough to throw Adora off her game. However, in a rare effort to go above and beyond, Catra coupled that with a desperate escape attempt where she suddenly dropped her staff and, in the split second of confusion, ducked under Adora’s legs. As soon as Adora processed the motion and spun to face her opponent, Catra had one hand around her throat and another open palm pressing hard into her abdomen. The grip on her neck wasn’t firm, but it was just shocking enough that Adora complied with Catra’s few forceful steps before she was pushed backwards into the wall, colliding heavily with the concrete.

She gasped as Catra closed the distance between them, walking forward with measured steps until she was standing between Adora’s squared feet with her hands extended and pressed into the wall by Adora’s head. Adora quickly cycled through her options in her mind, but finding herself quite literally backed against a wall didn’t give her much in the way of contingency plans. She could certainly try to sidestep under Catra’s arms, but she could see that Catra had placed her feet in a specific way to easily counter that move. If she shoved Catra away, Catra could just take them down together. Adora swallowed thickly, unsure of how to proceed. 

“Mercy?” Catra whispered, staring directly into Adora’s eyes. Adora didn’t entertain a response, still racking her brain for ideas. “I’m not done yet, Adora,” her partner mumbled, leaning forward and pressing a light kiss into Adora’s jaw. As she pulled her head back, Adora felt a rush of energy at the darkness in her eyes. “I want to see you lose it.” 

Well. Anything for Catra. 

Adora surged forward, her hands pressed into Catra’s collarbones. She pushed the shorter girl away and stepped back, growing the distance between them. Catra grinned, shoulders heaving with heavy breaths. 

“There she is.” 

“Fight back,” Adora ordered. Catra’s smile faded into set lips, a furrowed brow. She raised her fists, bending slightly at the knees. Adora copied the stance. This was a new dance, a 4/4 pulse, high tempo, high intensity. A cadence flowed through their movements, a fast beat guiding them.

 _One_. Adora bent low, pulling her fist up in an opening uppercut.

 _Two_. Catra caught her wrist, forcing it away from her face.

 _Three_. Adora landed a short punch into Catra’s stomach, but--

 _Four_. --Catra responded in turn with a hard back hand slap to Adora’s face. 

_One_. Adora stumbled back slightly, cheek stinging. 

_Two_. Catra stepped forward, swinging wide towards Adora’s head.

 _Three_. Adora dodged and took hold of Catra’s forearm,--

 _Four_. --bringing her down to her knees. 

_One_. Catra tried to scramble away.

 _Two_. Adora wove her hand into the hair at the crown of Catra’s head, holding her in place.

 _Three_. Catra clawed at Adora’s wrist, trying to loosen her grasp.

 _Four_. Adora swiftly lifted her right leg up and--

 _One_. --connected her knee with Catra’s cheekbone. 

_Two_. Catra cried out, blood dripping from her face, and--

 _Three_. --reached around Adora’s knees,--

 _Four_. --pulling her down to the ground with her. 

_One_. Adora grunted as she hit the floor.

 _Two_. Catra wrestled her way on top of Adora,--

 _Three_. --her knees on either side of Adora’s hips and--

 _Four_. --her palms pressing hard into Adora’s extended arms. 

_One_. Adora tried and failed to push her off.

 _Two._ Catra pinned Adora’s forearms to the floor,--

 _Three_. --claws digging into her skin.

 _Four_. Catra slammed her elbow into Adora’s temple.

 _One_. Adora felt blood slipping down her face. 

_Two_. Catra’s grip loosened for just a second and--

 _Three_. --Adora managed to take advantage of it.

 _Four_. On the upbeat,--

 _One_. --Adora swung Catra off,--

 _Two_. --slamming her into the hard floor beside her.

 _Three_. Catra looked towards Adora, chest heaving and breathing uneven.

 _Four_. Adora looked back, similarly wrecked. 

The rhythm charging their motion was slipping away quickly, leaving the two of them in a quiet room without pulse, without energy. Without the rush of the fight, certain things were more clear than before. For Adora, the smell of salt and iron, the sound of gasping breaths, the high temperature of the room. The look of Catra beside her, lying on her back next to where Adora stayed in the same position, her hair untamed and her eyes wide, bloody and bruises already splotching across her skin, a soft smile on her lips. Taking mental stock, Adora was sure she looked much the same. Silence overtook them both as they tried to calm down, Adora attempting to will her heart to stop racing and her fingers to stop itching for more. 

Adora’s mind was running wild. She felt free and powerful and loved and understood. She felt grateful for the fact that her and Catra were on the same page here. For the fact that they both wanted the same insane thing. And for the fact that it seemed to achieve the exact desired result for both of them. 

Catra was the first to move, as soon as she wasn’t so breathless. She stood slowly, humming low against the obvious pain she felt. Adora reached a hand out to her from the floor, but Catra disregarded it as she walked to her bag in the corner of the room. Adora didn’t turn her head to watch, instead focusing on the rustling sounds of Catra digging around. Soon, Adora heard Catra grunt as she sat down just behind her head. Adora twisted her neck, wincing at the pain in her ribs as she attempted to suck in a deep breath. 

Catra was sitting in a loose cross legged position, a water bottle by her side and a couple small white washcloths in her lap. Adora slowly pulled herself up as well, folding her legs and letting her knees touch gently against Catra’s. She watched Catra pour some of the water onto one cloth, wetting it slightly and reaching towards Adora. Adora moved to take the towel, but Catra softly gripped her wrist with her other hand to stop her. 

“Here, let me.” Her voice was a whisper, tender, a little ragged. Adora almost protested, but something about the look in Catra’s eyes held her at bay. She raised an eyebrow as best as she was able to in confusion. Catra smiled, looking away but raising Adora’s hand up her lips and placing a light kiss near her fingers. “It’s like what I was talking about earlier, cleaning the memories. I could never take care of you before.” Adora started to speak, but Catra beat her. “I know, yeah, I know. You don’t need anybody to take care of you. I want to. Okay? It’s for me, not you.” 

Adora smiled, ignoring the pain in her head. “I wasn’t going to say that. I was just going to thank you.” 

Catra’s blush was harder to spot within the already pink tinge of her overheated face, but Adora still caught it. “Oh. Whatever, then. Ignore that.” 

Laughing lightly, Adora reached for Catra’s water bottle and pulled the other cloth from her lap. She followed her partner’s lead, pouring just a bit of the water onto a corner of the towel before taking a slow sip from the bottle for herself. She held it back out to Catra, who drank more quickly, gulping down a good bit of the water. She mumbled something about the heat, choosing not to acknowledge Adora’s actions. As Catra raised her towel up to Adora’s cut temple with her right hand, Adora mirrored the action and brought hers to Catra’s split cheekbone. The room temperature water was still much cooler than her body, leading Adora to close her eyes briefly in content. She felt Catra smile against her hand.

“Don’t move your face, come on,” Adora urged, gently circling the wet towel over her wound. Catra’s cut seemed deeper than Adora’s own, so she moved very carefully. Against her own face, Catra’s work was clean and precise. She felt Catra pull the cloth down her cheek and jaw, cleaning the blood that had dripped down. Catra went a step further, gently wiping down the other side of Adora’s face and clearing some of the sweat there. When she was finished, she held the wet part of the towel against the back of Adora’s neck. Adora copied the movements, savoring the way it brought coolness to her body and wanting to give the same to Catra. At the contact, Catra closed her eyes and leaned forward, gently pressing her forehead into Adora’s. 

“Anywhere else?” Catra asked quietly, eyes still closed. Adora hummed, shaking her head softly. She let her own eyelids drop. 

“No, not really. Ribs, a little, from when you threw the staff, but that’ll be fine in a few days. You?” 

“Ribs, yeah. You’ve got a strong kick. Shoulder, too, when you tossed me into the ground like a sack of flour.” Adora winced. She felt Catra bring a hand to her face, loosely cupping her cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

Adora pulled her head back slightly, opening her eyes and lifting her lips to Catra’s forehead. She kissed her lightly and removed the reddened towel from Catra’s neck, reaching out to grasp the hand that her partner was resting lightly in her lap. Catra took Adora’s towel off and bowed her head deeper, almost teetering forward. Adora put her free hand under Catra’s chin and held her heavy head up. Catra forced her eyes open, Adora’s heart skipping at the way they were so full of love, even with the socket around one already darkening into a bruise. 

“Did you… is that what you wanted?” Catra asked quietly. Adora nodded slowly, no real smile but the ghost of one. “Didn’t go too far or anything?” 

“No. Do you think we did?” Adora questioned, suddenly feeling a hint of her nerves from the beginning of the night return. 

“It was exactly what I needed. If that’s too far, then that’s on us.” 

Adora laughed, louder than she intended. “What the fuck is wrong with us, Catra? This was, like, not normal.” 

Catra laughed back, turning into a cough at the end. She smiled brightly. “Haven’t we always been like this, though?” 

Adora nodded, lopsided grin on her face. “Right, I guess so. Is this going to be a regular thing?” 

“Maybe not regular. If you can think of a good excuse for this,” Catra’s free hand circled her face as she spoke, gesturing around the very visible injuries she sustained there, “I’m sure we can do it again if we ever want to.” 

“God, Glimmer and Bow are so not going to be okay with this,” Adora groaned quietly.

“Shouldn’t you be grateful for that? It’s good that your friends don’t want you and your girlfriend tearing each other up.” Catra was joking, clearly understanding Adora’s concern. At the moment, however, Adora didn’t care much if their friends didn’t approve of this. If it was what the two of them wanted, if it helped them in any way, it should be fine. Maybe. God, this was really fucked up.

“Seriously, any ideas for how we’re spinning this narrative?” Catra pressed.

“Horse attack?” Adora tried. Catra laughed and brought her hand up to Adora’s temple, touching the wound lightly.

“Just, like, big papercuts?” 

“Never going to work. Chandelier fell on us when we were sleeping?” 

“Oh, that’s pretty good. You’ll have to install a chandelier above our bed, though.”

“Fuck, right. Hey, speaking of bed…” Adora yawned in perfect timing with her words, bringing a smile to Catra’s lips. Catra leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Adora’s cheek. 

“I’ll help you up.” 


End file.
